


a painful, pure-hearted devotion called love

by darth_fluffy



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Canon-Typically Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Romance, and humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_fluffy/pseuds/darth_fluffy
Summary: Stranded on an icy road while delivering Christmas presents, Killua and Gon cuddle, annoy each other, and talk about the past neither one of them wants to face.





	a painful, pure-hearted devotion called love

With a gasp of white smoke and a shuddering  _ whirr  _ from the engines that sounds more like a shriek of pain than anything else, the car comes to a halt.

Right in the middle of the road.

The icy, pine-lined road miles away from the nearest sign of human habitation.

“Well,” Killua says, looking out on the desolate landscape before him, glistening white in his headlights with two sky-dark ruts running down the center. The pines loom on either side of the road, two green cliffs shutting them out from any sign of life. “Fuck.”

“You’re right,” Gon says cheerfully, his sparkly red nose bobbing in time with his words. “We’re alone in the woods in the middle of December, with no way out, no heat or food,  _ and  _ you just killed your sister’s car.”

Killua grits his teeth. “Don’t remind me.” With a  _ thud,  _ he slams his elbows into the dashboard and buries his face in his hands. “And all those kids that aren’t gonna get a Christmas…” He groans, rubbing out the knots forming in his temples, and says the only thing he can at this point.  _ “Fuck _ .”

A gentle hand on the nape of his neck, softly combing through the wisps of hair there. “It’ll be okay, Killua,” Gon says, his voice warm. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we deliver the presents tomorrow, and… if we’re gonna be stuck here, at least we have each other.” Gon’s tone turns wistful, for just a second, and Killua isn’t sure which one of them he wants to slap first: Gon, for saying something so  _ stupidly romantic _ yet still remaining completely oblivious, or himself, for falling a little bit more for Gon with the words.

“And the wrath of Alluka that awaits me when I get home?” 

“On  _ that…”  _ Gon says, a grinning lilt to his voice. “I’m afraid you’re boned.”

“Who the hell says ‘boned’ anymore?”

“Aunt Mito, for one.”

“Old people don’t count.”

“Aunt Mito’s not  _ that  _ old!” Gon protests. “She’s barely even thirty. And besides, pretty soon  _ we’ll  _ be the old people.”

“Don’t remind me,” Killua grumbles under his breath. It hadn’t been a week since a little girl in the supermarket had come up to him, taken one look at his white hair, and said, ‘My grampa has hair like that!’ as Gon and Alluka looked on, practically  _ vibrating _ with laughter. That little incident had propelled him to their current fatally-doomed present-delivering mission, (“because you’d be a  _ perfect _ Santa!”) and made Killua imagine a crick in his knees for the next several weeks. 

“Hey, older means wiser, you know. That’s what Great-grandma Abe always said.” Gon sticks his tongue out. “So I guess that means…”

“Makes sense that you look so young, then.” 

_ “Hey!” _

As they double over, laughing, the puffs of their breaths frost the windows, diffusing the sharp beams of light from the lone streetlight above them into a hazy warm glow. Gon reclines his seat, lies back and puts his hands behind his head, his amber eyes dancing in the light and a soft, lazy smile on his face. Killua straightens and flings open the console compartment, then closes it again with a muffled, “ _ Sshit. _

_ Wait. Maybe it’s in the trunk.  _

“Huh?” Gon says, sitting up. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing, just that _Alluka doesn’t keep her damn emergency kit in her damn car for_ _exactly these types of situations,”_ Killua says through gritted teeth. “What if she’d gotten in a wreck? She wouldn’t have the hammer, or the first-aid kit…”

Gon’s face crumples.

“Remind me to yell at her when we get rescued,” Killua mutters. “And anyway,  _ we  _ don’t have a blanket. So in case you’ve got any ideas how we can prevent ourselves from freezing to death, I’d  _ very much like to hear them.  _ Preferably soon.”

“Maybe call for help?” Gon says with a shrug. “It won’t be immediate, but if we call soon, we probably won’t have to wait for longer than a half hour, if that.”

Killua’s mouth falls open. “God damn it, Gon, why didn't  _ I _ think of that?!”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to curse on Christmas. It’s special.”

“Not really,” Killua mutters, only half listening. “Okay, I immediately take back everything I said about you being dumb. I’ll call them right now.” Killua takes out his phone and dials emergency services.

And is promptly rewarded with a busy signal.

_ “Fuck.” _

“You have a wonderful vocabulary.”

Killua shoots Gon a sidelong glance. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Gon smiles angelically, and opens his arms as if signaling Killua for a hug. But before he can send Killua’s thoughts spiraling into images of himself snug in his best friend’s arms, Gon lets his hands drop. “Maybe try again later?”

“Hold on.” After a second of nervous googling, Killua’s at the page for the local road services department, where he is greeted with a very dismal UNSAFE ROAD CONDITIONS banner.  _ “Shit.” _

Gon cranes his neck to look at Killua’s phone. “What are they saying?” 

“They’re saying that the emergency services are shot because of the number of people who need to be rescued. Probably several hours.”

“Oh.” Gon’s face falls, his shoulders slump, and he leans forward to bury his face in his hands. “We’re fucked.”

Killua raises an eyebrow. “I thought you said you weren’t supposed to curse on Christmas.”

“I know, but this is a special occasion.”

_ You can say that again.  _ Killua muffles a groan as he flops back in his car seat. He’s starting to shiver, he notices; the cold seeps through the scraggly velveteen of his Santa costume, relentlessly stripping the warmth from his bones.  _ What the fuck are we going to do? _

“Killua?”

“Hn.”

“I meant what I said earlier.” Gon’s voice is soft, but still strong. “There are worse places to get stuck… and, hey, at least we have each other.”

_ At least we have each other.  _ Killua’s pulse quickens, and he feels a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

He forces it away. There had been a time, back in middle school, where he’d clung to Gon’s affection like precious gems. But then Gon had up and vanished from his life without even so much as a goodbye, and Killua had had Alluka to watch out for, and they’d gradually lost touch. And they’ve grown up, and, really, it was a  _ horribly  _ childish thing to pine after a childhood best friend whom you havedn’t really talked to in years.

So Killua didn’t. Not at all. 

With a muttered “fuck this,”, he pulls his coat on over his plush Santa suit, unbuckles himself, then quickly climbs out of the car, slams the door, and half-walks, half-skates his way over the the trunk, desperately trying to convince himself that Alluka keeps her set of tools and emergency equipment there. After several minutes of rummaging around the legion of gold-foil-covered packages, he manages to get a clear view of the bottom of the trunk.

The bottom of the trunk, and the depressing lack of emergency supplies it contains.

_ Alluka, when we get home, remind me to yell at you. _

Shivering, Killua turns around, eyes scanning the dark road. The pile of sparkling presents in the bed of the trailer that Alluka’s car had tried and failed to pull, the snow shimmering in the taillights…

The absolute lack of anyone in sight.

Killua stomps back to the car, opens the door, then quickly slides in. “Any news?” Gon asks, entirely too chipper.

“Nothing’s changed.” Killua slumps back in his seat. His hood slides back, sending chunks of fresh snow falling onto his forehead, into his eyes. Bone-bracingly frigid even as they melt, they send streams of icy water trickling down his face. Killua exhales, long and slow. “We’re still stuck.”

Silence. Apparently even Gon has reached his limit.

“Whoa, check it out, Killua. That’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

Or not.

“What is?” Killua murmurs, suddenly defeated. He forces himself to sit up, to at least take an interest in whatever Gon’s looking at.  _ I can’t let the cold weaken me. _

“This snowflake!” Gon presses his thumb to the glass, watches the condensation bloom. “Isn’t it huge?” 

“Yeah.” Killua bites his lip, silently fighting a silent battle between taking a picture and sending it to Alluka, or stretching his battery life that much longer. “It’s huge.”

“Wanna have a snowflake finding contest…”

“Not really.”

“Mm.”

The lie back in their seats, on their sides facing each other. Out of the light, Gon’s eyes no longer shine the way they did; rather, their color turns a subtle bronze, like an antique penny. The glitter fallen from his nose catches the light of Killua’s phone, highlighting the curve of his lips. “Hey, Killua, I know I promised to be less reckless, but… would you be mad if I left the car?”

_ A promise to be less reckless?  _ “Of  _ course  _ I would be mad, you idiot. You’d freeze to death.”

“Not if we kept moving…”

“And you’re not wearing boots thick enough for this kind of snow. Neither am I.” Killua sighs heavily, feeling a sense of hope leave his body. “There’s nothing neither of us can do right now.”

“Hmm.” Gon curls in on himself, no longer meeting Killua’s gaze. He seems… smaller. Younger somehow, as if he’s rewound the clock and become once more the boy Killua had known in middle school, before they parted. 

The boy Killua had first loved. 

And then Gon sits up. And climbs over the console, and plops down on Killua’s seat, his butt pressed up against Killua’s pelvis.

Killua’s brain just about short-circuits. “Gon. What. The. Actual.  _ Hell.” _

“I’m keeping you warm!” Gon exclaims, his tone entirely too bright. He lies down beside Killua, doing his best to shove two grown men into one car seat, and Killua has to admit Gon is right: he  _ is  _ keeping him warm.

The blush creeping up his cheeks could probably power several small cities.

Gon wiggles around so that he and Killua are face-to-face, close enough to feel each other’s breath on their lips, then wraps his arms around Killua, his hands gently drawing paths on the back of Killua’s neck. “This good?”

“Yeah,” Killua manages to mutter. 

“‘Kay.” Gon snuggles up against him, his breath and hands warm. “Whaddya wanna talk about?. Or do?.”

_ Is he doing this deliberately?  _ Killua’s thoughts fly back in time—and for a second, they’re boys again, still spending long hours running through the woods behind Gon’s house, tormenting Mito with all sorts of strange insects from the creek, catching fireflies and running down the beach until their sides ached, eating until they can’t hold another bite. Somewhere amidst those memories, he had fallen in love with Gon, with his wide, brilliant smile and blinding courage and warm, open heart, with his stubbornness and the glint he got in his  _ (wonderful, amazing, gorgeous)  _ amber eyes whenever he spoke of his dreams. 

(And later on, he’d fallen in love with the way Gon’s butt looked in swim trunks. But Gon didn’t need to know that, and Killua certainly didn’t need to admit it to himself.)

But they’d grown up and apart, and moved on with their lives. Killua was studying psychology; Gon, environmental science. Killua hads Alluka to look after, for now anyways, and Gon had that Ritz crackers girl and Zushi. Other friends. Separate lives. 

It was fine. Killua would survive. 

He always had. 

“Remember when we were younger?”

Gon’s eyes are bright as he says the words. 

“What about when we were younger?”

“I don’t know. Just… I miss it.” Gon laces their fingers together. “Being next to you all the time, passing notes in class… remember when we found that slime mold?”

Gon had named her Lucy and kept her in an old Coke bottle on his bathroom counter, until she’d escaped and grown tendrils. Killua still laughs at the memory of Mito’s face when she saw the slime. 

“I remember,” he says, snuggling up to Gon, relishing in their shared warmth. It would be so easy to kiss him, he thinks; all he would have to do is hold Gon a little closer, move his head the slightest bit further, and close the gap between their lips. 

So, so easy. “Mito’s face was the best.” Killua finds himself smiling, his pulse racing with the desire to reach out and kiss Gon. “I think you were grounded for weeks.”

Not that that had stopped them, of course. Killua had spent those weeks climbing into Gon’s room by the light of the moon.

“Felt like years ‘cause I missed you.”

“Idiot,” Killua says, his voice light, breathy. “We saw each other almost every  _ day _ .”

Gon gives Killua’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “I know. But I still missed you.”

_ You’re not really talking about when we were younger, aren’t we?  _ Out loud he says, “Why? You were the most popular guy in our year. You had your  _ pick  _ of friends.”

Gon visibly retreats, biting his lip, his eyes glimmering with tears in the dusky light. “Not really, no.” He swallows. “I didn’t.”

A memory races through Killua’s mind: himself and Gon on the beach, piles of shells at their feet.  _ This one’s like you,  _ Gon had said, his tanned fingers tracing the shimmering inside of the shell.  _ Spiky on the outside but all pretty and smooth... _

That Gon, the brilliant boy with eyes like the sun, had lit up Killua’s world before leaving just as quickly as he’d came. At first, the ache had been raw, agonizing, leaving Killua hollowed out and missing his best friend with every breath. But he’d stayed strong. He’d had Alluka to protect, and a chance at freedom for the first time.

And they had been in middle school. They were in college now.

So why did this all feel so damned  _ awkward? _

_ “Killua,”  _ Gon says as he lightly bops Killua on the nose, “you’re thinking too much. I can see your brain spinning.”

Killua rolls his eyes, smiles, then presses himself a little more fully against Gon’s chest, leaning into his best friend's touch. “Funny you recognize it. I’d imagine you’d never felt a spinning brain before.”

_ “Heeyy!”  _ Gon laughs, pinching Killua’s nose. “I’m not as dumb as  _ that.” _

“Says the guy who once brushed his teeth with a slime mold,” Killua says, his voice nasal due to Gon’s fingers on his nose. It sounds a touch like he’d just swallowed helium.

“Okay,  _ fine,” _ Gon admits, his smile radiant, his eyes soft and a bit sad. “That was… maybe not my smartest moment.”

“How did it taste?.”

“What? The slime mold?” Gon scrunches up his brow in thought. “Sorta… stale and bitter. But not bad. Also super chewy, like gum that’s been in your mouth awhile… Killua, you’re sorta turning green…”

Killua doesn’t stop to question Gon’s evaluation of his complexion in such low light. “Mmmph. I wonder why.”

“Killua, the one and lonely human pea.” Gon pauses, then says with a flourish, “Can I please join your pod?”

“I think you already have.” Killua knits his fingers together behind Gon’s back. It’s the closest they’ve been since their separation, and even though the thought seems to set him alight, it doesn’t feel strange. 

It feels like coming home. 

He can feel Gon’s heartbeat, throbbing strong and warm through the think skunk at the nape of his neck, a welcome relief from the ever-present brutal cold seeping into the car. Killua blinks, his eyes meeting Gon’s.  _ Gold against blue… _

“No but, seriously, what  _ were _ you thinking about, Killua?”

_ How beautiful your eyes are, even when it’s dark out. And how you keep me warm. And how, if I’m with you, I feel like I’ll be okay.  _ “...Stuff. Gold, I guess.” 

“Gold?” Gon seems to realize; a softness sweeps across his face. He exhales, and Killua feels Gon’s warm breath on his cold lips. Like a kiss.

“You’re thinking about something, too, aren’t you,” Killua manages to force out. “I think your brain’s starting to turn over.”

Gon smiles. “About how nice it is to have you back.”

Killua blushes, squirming within Gon’s embrace.  _ “God,  _ Gon. You  _ can’t just say— _ shit.”

“I really meant it, though.” Gon’s smile fades as his voice turns soft. Wistful. “Because after I… left school,  I…” He swallows. “I didn’t think I deserved you. And I still sorta don’t.”

_ Huh? “Idiot,”  _ Killua says, his voice hoarse. “You think  _ I  _ ever deserved  _ you?”  _

“That’s different.” Gon bites his lip. “You didn’t do the stuff that I did.”

“Try me.”

Gon sucks in a breath, tightening his grip on Killua. “You remember our final year in middle school? When I was on the wrestling team.”

That had been their final year together. Of course Killua remembered it. “Yeah.”

“Remember how I started growing so fast?”

“And you got the envy of every guy and the gonads of everyone who was into men. Yes, I remember.”

“Well, okay…” Gon’s voice grows thick and choked. One more he bites his lip, blinking back glossy tears. “That wasn’t entirely natural.”

“Gon…?”

“I…” Gon swallows hard. “When you’re in wrestling, you… The coaches are very specific about height and weight requirements. You have to fit in. You can’t be weak.”

“Gon, _ no.”  _ Killua swallows down the sourness filling his throat. He reaches out and runs his fingers through Gon’s spiky hair, wishing with all his heart that he could take Gon’s pain away with a touch. “You  _ didn’t.” _

Gon’s rembling, Killua notices, in a way that isn’t from the cold. “It- it seemed so easy. Just take a couple of pills and then you can go and be strong. I was…” He sniffs. “You’re right. I  _ am _ an idiot.”

_ “No.”  _ Killua pulls him even tighter, holding him while his body shakes. “You were a kid.”

“A stupid kid.” Gon’s cheeks grow wet with tears. “You don’t know the half of it.” Gon pulls back, visibly shrinking away from Killua. “The- the thing about anabolic steroids is… they can make you angry.”

Killua feels a chill seep down his spine.

“I… They had to have reconstructive surgery,” Gon whispers, the beads of tears on his eyelashes finally starting to spill. “Because of what I did. Because I lost my temper.”

Silence.

_ I know.  _

Somehow, he’s always known, always had that sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that all the fire in his best friend would spill over, spill over and burn him up alive. Gon’s face is wet with tears. He folds in on himself, his knees coming up to push against Killua’s thighs, his hands breaking Killua’s line of sight. A tangle of limbs, sharp and unyielding in keeping Killua from his best friend.

“Gon.”

“...Huh?”

“Let me hold you.” The words slip from Killua’s mouth, and he tries not to blush.

Gon’s eyes go wide with surprise—but he relaxes anyway, his limbs going slack as Killua sits up and gathers him into his arms. They stay like that for a long while, huddled together in the freezing night, cold cheeks pressed up against each other as they watch the storm bury their windshield in soft, opaque snow.

“Are you angry?” Gon whispers, his face pressed against Killua’s shirt. 

Killua cradles him even tighter. “How could I be? You know the sort of shit I did for my family. Don’t say I have any right to judge you.” 

“That’s different,” Gon whispers, his voice hoarse. “You never hurt anyone. Not the way I did…” 

Killua snorts. “Yeah, but… Just because it wasn’t visible doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” He gently rubs circles onto Gon’s back. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” he says softly. “That people think actively hurting someone is so much worse than passively…”

“Killua.” Gon’s arms wrap around his back, pulling Killua even closer. “Thank you. For forgiving me.” 

_ I always would,  _ Killua thinks as he holds his best friend, his first love, in the quiet night.

“Killua?”

The snow outside their window is thicker now, tucking them beneath a blanket of white. “Hm?”

“If I…” Gon’s voice, still thick with tears, wavers slightly. “If I said there was more stuff I didn’t tell you… what would you do?”

Killua stiffens. “More stuff? Like  _ what?” _

“It’s not like that, Killua.” He hears Gon swallow, feels his pulse speed up. “It’s just that, you know, that’s how I figured out I was gay. Because artificial testosterone raises your sex drive and all and I always thought I’d start feeling things about girls  _ eventually…” _

“But it never came,” Killua says softly.

“Yeah.” Gon lets out a heavy sigh, the tension dissolving from his body. “There were a lot of boys though… and, um.” He grins sheepishly, wriggling free from Killua’s embrace and sitting up, one hand scratching the back of his neck. 

Gon’s next words tumble out in a rush. “One boy in particular that I really liked but I didn’t want to tell him anything because we were friends and I didn’t want to ruin things or make him feel weird or uncomfortable or anything...“

_ We were friends?  _ Killua wracks his brain, mentally scanning the roster of boys in their eighth-grade class. Gon had been on scholarship; besides him and a few other students, the rest of the boys had been rich little snot-nosed brats whose pocket money was invariably followed by five zeroes.  _ Who could it have been?  _

Killua discovers a distinct urge to go back in time and smack Gon’s mysterious love interest right in the face. “ _ Don’t  _ tell me you met Zushi then.”

“He’s not Zushi.” Gon is blushing, his eyes downcast. “He’s you.”

Silence. 

Killua’s heart throbs in his ears.

_ Gon… are you serious? Do you really care that much for me? _

But Gon’s eyes are soft, tender as he gazes at Killua. He takes Killua’s hand, knots their fingers together, then raises it to his lips and presses a kiss on Killua’s knuckles—and Killua feels a radiant  _ warmth  _ sweep across him, his breath coming with just a hint of a gasp. 

“What about Zushi?” Killua manages to say.

Gon grins. “We actually broke up about a month ago. We’re basically roommates at this point.” 

Killua feels himself grin, wide and bright, feels his eyes begin to glisten with joyful tears. 

They lie down beside each other once more. Gon wraps his arm around Killua, pulling him close, his eyes finding Killua’s once more. Gon’s smile softens as he reaches his other hand out to touch Killua’s cheek. “Killua… I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But…”

“If you’re going to say something about you having an open boyfriend slot and needing someone to fill it, don’t. That’s just cheesy.”

“Aw.” Gon points in mock devastation. “You read my mind.”

Killua rolls his eyes—and promptly finds he can’t stop smiling, not even to play around with Gon. “Another reason why we go great together,” he mutters, half hoping Gon won’t hear.

“Killua… you feel the same, right?””

_ “Yes,”  _ Killua murmurs, running his fingers through Gon’s hair.

“Then of  _ course _ we go good together!Because—“ Gon snuggles up against Killua, his head tucked under Killua’s chin. “We’re best friends. And I’ve wanted to be yours for as long as I’ve known you. And I finally am.”

Gon’s voice breaks as he says the final words—and Killua feels hot tears spring to his own eyes. He holds Gon even tighter against his heart, silently praying for this moment to never end.

And then he feels his plush Santa belly. The thick, plush Santa belly separating him from Gon.

“Gon.”

“Mmm?”

“Do you mind if I sit up? I want to…” Killua’s mind goes blank as he realizes how  _ take off my shirt _ would sound in this context, and the sheer mileage of teasing that Gon would get from that line. “I’m… okay, I’m tired of being Santa tonight.”

He sits up, and starts to slip the foam belly out from under his shirt—and then Gon, the  _ little shit  _ that he is, wiggles over so that Killua is straddling Gon’s hips. Killua looks down at Gon’s angelic face. “You planned this.” 

Gon simply grins in response.

Killua grins, slides his foam stomach out from under his shirt, then lies down against Gon’s chest. 

Or tries to.

But then Gon’s hands are caressing his cheeks and pulling his face toward Gon’s. And Gon’s lips are against his own, slightly chapped but still so soft and  _ warm _ , and all Killua can think is  _ you’re here. You’re really here. _

Killua’s heart leaps, a heady sense of  _ lightness  _ flooding through his veins. He leans into the kiss, parting his lips slightly, silently thanking whatever gods that existed for giving this man to him again—

And then promptly takes a flake of glitter to the eye.

“Ah!”

“Killua, are you okay?!”

“I’m  _ fine,”  _ Killua mutters, sitting up and rubbing at his eye. “Just… some of your damn nose glitter got in my eye.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Gon sits slightly, then takes off his fake nose and throws it at the car window. It sticks, hanging there as an impromptu ornament. Gon smiles sweetly up at Killua, and Killua feels something  _ catch  _ within his heart, catch and spread and fill his veins with warmth and light.

“Killua—“ Gon breathes, his eyes soft and so full of affection it makes Killua’s heart skip a beat. “You’re so wonderful when you smile…”

“Course I am ,” Killua chokes out. “I’m looking at  _ you.” _

Gon’s eyes glisten, and he makes a tiny choked sound in the back of his throat as he reaches up to pull Killua into another passionate kiss. Their lips meet, soft as they press against each other, creating a tiny pocket of warmth in the frigid darkness that surrounds them. Killua wants to take in all of Gon, wants to memorize the voice and scent and taste of this man—his first friend, his best friend, his dearest love. And for a long time, they’re just lying there, murmuring sighs of affection into each other’s mouths, limbs and hearts hopelessly entwined.

And then Gon says, “Do you want me to take the antlers off too?”

“ _ Gon, _ ” Killua grunts, poking him in the collarbone. “Way to ruin the mood.”

“You know you love me.”

“Of  _ course  _ I do, dumbass.  _ Always.” _

_ “ _ Always,” Gon echoes, smiling as he presses a kiss to Killua’s cheek.

And there they lay, wrapped in the soft glow of  _ always. _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So this is for actuallynimo over on Tumblr for the HxH Secret Santa! I hope you love it *-*
> 
> And the title is a line from Snow Halation by Muse, because when I’m not HxH trash, I’m Love Live trash


End file.
